Creating Silence
For all the joyful noise we will create at St. Paul’s on Easter Day, the church will mostly be silent for the next three days. Silence is one of my favorite parts of Holy Week. It’s as if the church stands still for a few precious days, inviting us to focus on God’s love made manifest in Jesus.
In his deeply moving memoir, The Healing Path, James Finley writes: “As I continued in my spiritual practices after I left the monastery, I came to realize that, yes, it is true that out here in the midst of the world we are surrounded by all sorts of noise and superficial chatter that can intrude upon our sense of inner peace and God’s presence in our lives. But it is also true that we can learn to listen to the sound of the wind and the song of birds and the laughter of children and many other sounds as well that renew our spirits and restore us to a more grounded sense of ourselves in God’s presence. And, then too, there are words of lovers and poets and the words of those who cry out in their suffering, asking for help, and the words of those who seek to offer help as best they can, all bearing witness to and embodying God’s oneness with us in life itself.”
How might you create space for silence these next few days? Perhaps by sitting in the church for a few extra minutes at the conclusion of worship on Maundy Thursday or Good Friday. Or maybe allowing a few minutes of silence at the beginning or end of the day. Or perhaps by resisting the temptation to fill the silence with the noise of the TV or other devices. The goal isn’t to create a pure silence as if we’re wearing noise canceling headphones. As Finley reminds us, the goal is to listen to the sounds of the world around us and, by doing so, to open ourselves more fully to God’s presence and oneness with us.
Priests are often called on to fill the silence. Most clergy I know, including myself, enjoy this part of our ministry. We always have something to say and embrace every opportunity to say it. One of the delights of my sabbatical, which starts this coming Monday, April 1, is that no one will ask me to say anything at all. Instead of filling the silence, I’ll be invited to embrace it. I’m being given the opportunity to listen more deeply, a gift for which I am grateful.
Creating silence during a sabbatical requires being out of touch with you for the next three months. I won’t check email and will stay away from Facebook (though I might be found on Instagram). I will spend as much time as possible away from my phone and my laptop.
My silence will extend to this weekly reflection. Over the next three months, you will find reflections written mostly by parishioners with the occasional offering by a member of the clergy and staff. I know each of them will reveal the Risen Christ’s presence and love in unique and transformative ways.
I will look forward to hearing the sounds of St. Paul’s when I return in July. Until then, know that you will be in my heart and in my prayers. Thank you for blessing my life and the lives of countless others with the many ways you share Christ’s love, create community, and strive for justice.
